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Webster was lying on the bed.
This is Austria—the country where Liebgott’s parents were from.
Liebgott was born in the States, lived there all his life, and had never set foot in Austria until now. He entered it at the same time as everyone else, but in the eyes of others, he somehow still belonged here. Webster didn’t know if Liebgott actually felt this way about himself or not. All he knew was that Liebgott was quieter than usual here. Or rather, not quiet, just causing fewer problems. Less inclined to start trouble.
He had always been someone with a hot temper, quick to pick a fight. Provoked easily, which wasn’t a good thing because he couldn’t control his temper at all. If someone upsets him, he wouldn’t stay silent. He’ll lash out, punch, shove, or respond so sharply that the other person would shut up.
He had a strong personality for someone so small. Thinking about it made Webster chuckle to himself. Liebgott was incredibly irritating and always picked fights with him, bringing out the worst in him. Yet, sometimes, Webster saw him as a small, angry kitten.
His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of the very kitten himself.
Liebgott glanced at him while walking toward his bed, which was next to Webster’s.
He raised an eyebrow, mocking.
“Laughing to yourself, Webster? Have you officially lost it?”
With that, he only confirmed Webster’s thoughts, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing even more.
Liebgott’s expression grew more confused, but he had a small smile. He walked over quietly and sat on the edge of his bed, facing Webster, who was still lying down.
They exchanged looks, no words, until Webster patted the mattress, signaling Liebgott to come closer.
No one knew, what they two knew about each other.
No one knew, what was going on between them.
Liebgott stared at his hand for a few more seconds, then looked at his eyes briefly before standing up and moving over to Webster’s bed. He sat down at the edge, his back to Webster, gaze fixed on the floor.
“I was thinking about you,” Webster spoke, taking Liebgott’s hand, which squeezed his in warmth.
“I figured. You’re obsessed with me.” Liebgott said in response, with the same mocking voice he uses usually.
Webster pushed himself up with one arm, propping his back against the headboard. Liebgott was still looking at the floor, his hands holding Webster’s between his, resting them in his lap, gripping tightly.
“Come here.” Webster released Liebgott’s hand and pulled his arm gently, tugging him back a bit.
Liebgott immediately understood what Webster wanted, but he didn’t move.
He raised his eyebrows, glanced at the door, then back at Webster.
“Here?”
“Yeah.” Webster pulled harder until Liebgott started moving. He braced his hands on Webster’s shoulders, lifting himself up and settling over his lap. His knees were spread apart, resting on either side of Webster’s hips.
He was looking into his eyes. Webster could feel Liebgott’s weight pressing down against his lap, and he knew Liebgott could feel the heat beneath him too.
Webster studied his face and Liebgott looked at him for a few seconds, with the same sharp look he always has, and then moved his eyes away, like he couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze any longer. But Webster kept watching his face as it slowly turned a faint shade of red.
Strong personality, loves a fight, fiery temper.
Webster smiled at the thought.
No one knew this side of Liebgott except him.
No one knew this softer, quieter, loving side.
This part of Liebgott that just wanted to be cared for, to be treated with tenderness and affection.
The part that wanted to leave all his anger behind and relax in someone else’s arms.
Webster moved his hand, lifting Liebgott’s chin until he met his eyes, his face reddening even more. Webster slid his hand to the back of his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him.
At first, it was a gentle, soft kiss, not rough at all.
Then Webster began to feel Liebgott responding, his tongue pressing between his lips, his mouth moving more insistently.
Liebgott’s lips sucked on his harder, his teeth biting down on his lower lip.
The kiss became more forceful, more aggressive.
Webster felt Liebgott’s hand moving, pulling his hand from behind his neck to the front, tightening his grip, forcing Webster to choke him.
Yes.
Webster was the only one who knew this side too.
The side of Liebgott that loved violence.
The side that loved being treated roughly, harshly.
The side that wanted Webster’s hands to slap him, pull his hair, and choke him.
This side that longed to surrender.
The small part of him that always wanted to let go of all his anger and let someone else take control, handle him however the other wished, to be a captive in the other’s hands, to be under the mercy of the one who held him.
Webster tightened his grip around Liebgott’s neck, who after a few seconds, pulled back from the kiss, gasping for breath.
Then Webster let go of his neck and raised his hand, slapping him hard across the cheek, the force making him tilt to the side, bracing himself more firmly on Webster’s chest.
Webster grabbed Liebgott’s collar, pulling him back into place, bringing him close again.
“Who said you could pull away?” Webster raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t say it harshly or seriously, he was smiling, wasn’t in that mood yet. It was more playful.
A small smile formed on Liebgott’s face as he stared back at him.
“Shut up, Webster.” he replied, chuckling, and leaning in for another kiss, wrapping his arms under Webster’s. He felt himself melting into him.
Webster hugged him back gently, kissing him with a bit more intensity before breaking the kiss to breathe.
Liebgott scooted a bit down, a bit closer, tightening the hug and resting his head on Webster’s shoulder, burying his face in his neck.
Webster couldn’t help but smile.
They were both burning up down there, but all Liebgott seemed to want was to cuddle.
He felt small, soft kisses on his neck.
“Joe,” Webster murmured near his ear, his hand slipping into Liebgott’s hair, with a soft grip, playing around with the strands of hair.
“Hmm?” came Liebgott’s soft hum between the kisses on Webster’s neck.
“I don’t get how you wanna do this today.” Webster said with smile, genuinely a bit confused.
“Hmm?” Liebgott lifted his head from Webster’s neck, looking at him with a puzzled expression.
Webster’s heart melted at the sight of him.
His hair was messy from Webster’s hand playing with it.
His cheeks were red, but the one that had been slapped earlier was even redder. His gaze looked so innocent.
“Do you want me to be rough? Or should we do it gently today?” Webster asked as he raised his hand and placed it on Liebgott’s flushed cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over it.
“Ah.” Liebgott finally processed the question, then fell silent for a few seconds, letting Webster stroke his cheek. He turned his head slightly, and started kissing Webster’s wrist. Jesus, is he trying to make Web lose his mind?
“I… don’t know,” he said between the kisses.
“I’m not sure,” he said again, moving closer to embrace him once more, without the neck kisses this time, just a simple hug.
“Oh yeah?” Webster responded simply, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. He noticed that Lieb was starting to really get comfortable at this point, not even trying to mock, or provoke in any way, so he waited, knowing he was going to get a real, true answer, soon.
“I think… I want you to be rough,” Liebgott said very quietly. Webster grinned widely. He knew how embarrassingly shy Liebgott felt when talking about his sexual desires. He wanted a lot of crazy things done to him but never had the courage to say them out loud. Maybe because he was a man full of pride.
“Sure about that?” Webster asked as he grabbed Liebgott’s waist tightly, pulling him back from his neck, forcing him to look into his eyes. He waited for an answer, and after a few seconds.
“Yes, Web,” He answered, with an annoyed tone, squinting his eyes because he was forced to vocalise his needs, not knowing what was coming ahead “I’m sure.”
That’s when Webster’s hands gripped Liebgott’s waist tighter and flipped them over, leaving him on top with Liebgott pinned beneath him.
He loved the look of surprise on Liebgott’s face.
Webster propped himself up on the bed, pressing his knee between Liebgott’s thighs, making him moan from the pressure. He leaned more of his weight on his knee, making Liebgott groan louder. His erection was painfully hard, aching for touch after the previous position.
“Hurts, huh?” Webster raised an eyebrow at the man beneath him. Liebgott didn’t seem focused, he was only groaning and breathing heavily.
“Isn’t this what you want? For me to hurt you?” Webster asked again, grinding his knee against Liebgott’s pants.
Liebgott glanced at him briefly but then seemed to avoid his gaze, his shyness overcoming him. Webster knew the embarrassment was eating him up inside.
“This is what you wanted. This is what you love,” Webster said, gripping Liebgott’s neck tightly again, forcing his face up, making him look at him. “You love it rough. You want to be hit and degraded.” With each word, Webster ground his knee harder and faster.
“Isn’t that what you crave? For someone to put you in your place. To take you and use your body however they please? To be manhandled like this?”
Liebgott continued to make all kinds of sounds, his head held still in Webster’s grasp, though he still tried to avoid Webster’s gaze, his gaze darting around before closing his eyes.
Webster raised his hand and slapped him hard across one cheek, then backhanded him across the other making the other yelp. He grabbed his throat again, pulling his face back toward him.
“Look at me, and answer. Isn’t this what you want? To be mistreated? To be handled with roughness?” Webster raised his eyebrows as he spoke, noticing the tears welling in Liebgott’s eyes from the force of the slaps.
Liebgott was panting from the pain on his erection and from the hand squeezing his throat, yet he nodded in agreement. Webster liked it, but wasn’t fully satisfied. He did it again, slapped him hardly across one cheek, and this time Liebgott let out a clear cry from the strike. Instead of returning his hand to Liebgott’s throat, Webster put it under his head and grabbed his hair, gripping it tightly to hold his head still.
“Talk to me, Joe. Let me hear it.”
Tears had started streaming from Liebgott’s silent eyes, and he looked up at Webster calmly. Seeing him like that… Webster couldn’t help the clench in his chest. He was afraid he might have hurt him for real. Afraid Liebgott wasn’t enjoying himself as he should. Webster knew for a fact this was what Liebgott liked. He knew exactly how Liebgott wanted to be treated. He understood him without words most of the time. He knew how Liebgott’s body reacted to everything he did. He knew that Liebgott enjoyed being treated this way maybe even more than Webster enjoyed giving it. Yet somehow, he still feared he might have crossed the line, that he might have hurt him too much, wounded him more than necessary, harmed him in a way Liebgott wouldn’t like.
Maybe, at that moment, when Liebgott looked up at him, he realized that his calm demeanor was unnerving Webster.
“Yes,” Liebgott whispered weakly between sobs. He loved it. He loved crying beneath him. He loved Webster hitting him and hurting him and roughing up his body like this. He wanted him to know that. “But not just any someone. I want you.”
At that, Webster’s features softened slightly, more attentive.
“Go on.”
“I want you to hit me, rough me up, manhandle me, use me,” Liebgott said directly, his voice trembling but louder than before. He was staring into Webster’s eyes, and the tears had stopped.
“You want me to fuck you, Lieb?” Webster asked with a small smile, pressing his knee down hard again before leaning in close.
“Mhm,” Liebgott nodded, and Webster drowned him in a deep kiss, biting hard on Liebgott’s lips and slipping his tongue between them before pulling back.
“Talk to me.”
That’s when Joe hesitated. Maybe talking about wanting to get physically hit by Webster was easier than talking about wanting to get fucked by him.
“Erzähl mal, Joe, tell me.”
Liebgott shut his eyes.
“Yes. Please. Please…” His voice was weak, but he was moving his hips beneath Webster’s knee, craving to be touched.
“Alright, then.” Webster kissed him softly on the lips this time before reaching over to the small table by the bed, opening the drawer, and grabbing a small container from inside.
He leaned back slightly, pulling his knee away from Liebgott’s erection, causing the other man to moan loudly. The ache in his cock was unbearable, and the lack of contact made it worse. Webster gently ran his hand over Liebgott’s crotch where his knee had been, soothing the pain slightly. He was about to pull down Liebgott’s pants quickly but hesitated when he realized Liebgott was still wearing his army jacket. So, he grabbed its edges and pulled it off him, followed by his green undershirt, yanking it roughly over his head.
Webster thought to himself that Liebgott wasn’t as skinny as everyone exaggerated. He was just small. Webster gripped his waist and started covering him in kisses. First over his stomach, then his chest, moving to his nipples, and finally up to his collarbones. He leaned in close to his face again.
“You’re beautiful,” Webster told him gently, looking into his eyes. Liebgott returned his gaze with a look that seemed, somehow, innocent, not his usual.
Webster knew. He knew all the weakness Liebgott hid behind those eyes. He understood the anxiety Liebgott lived with daily. He knew the feeling of isolation Liebgott had.
Despite his aggressive personality, he was loved by many. Everyone valued him. They knew he was an important soldier, and they knew his strength and how much he had endured. Everyone loved Liebgott, except for Liebgott himself.
Webster knew that the only times Liebgott felt safe were when he let himself go in his hands. He, of course, appreciated his friends being around, but he could never let his guard down unless Webster was holding him. These were Liebgott’s favorite moments, when Webster used him, when he let Webster do whatever he wanted, when he didn’t have to take control but let Webster take charge.
When Webster hit him, Liebgott enjoyed it. He enjoyed having someone be rough with him. It was perhaps the only way he could feel surrendered, at peace. Webster’s harsh treatment was the only thing that allowed him to release all his anger without having to express it himself in other way, because every other way he could take his anger out with was draining more then relieving. Inside, Liebgott was broken, so the pain from the outside was more comforting.
Webster knew how much Liebgott loved being treated roughly, how that was the only kind of pain he liked because it made him forget all the other pains. It made him feel like he existed, made him feel alive, while he was losing that feeling from everywhere else. It made him feel loved when he believed he had no love in his life, not from others—despite the falseness of that belief because he was, in fact, very loved by others—and not from himself.
“Joe, you’re perfect,” Webster told him again, looking into his eyes and leaning in closer.
Liebgott gazed back at him, looking so at ease, so content to be in his hands.
Liebgott raised his hand to the back of Webster’s neck and kissed him again, deeply, gently.
When they pulled away from the kiss, they continued to look at each other.
“Do you still want me to fuck you?” Webster asked.
“Yes.” Liebgott responded, his hand caressing Webster’s cheek.
“Good.” Webster said, lowering himself a little before undoing Liebgott’s belt and yanking down his pants and underwear roughly, throwing them to the floor.
Webster felt the shivering of Liebgott’s body beneath him, cold, and also due to the fact that he was still fully dressed. But he knew Liebgott liked it this way, he liked the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable, used, and Liebgott enjoyed that feeling of submission, and that small sense of humiliation.
Webster opened the jar he had set aside and smeared a little of its contents on his fingers, then rubbed the area around Liebgott’s entrance, making Lieb tremble even more at the touch. Webster delighted in those tremors. He looked at him, seeing Lieb laying back, head tilted, one arm covering both his eyes, then he focused again on the task at hand, spreading some on Lieb’s cock.
Liebgott felt thet he was losing his mind. The coolness on his cock, after all the rough handling, was so painful it made his whole body shake. He wanted more. Without thinking much, he reached down to touch himself, only for Webster’s hand to slap his away.
“In your dreams.” Lieb heard before feeling a finger rubbing his entrance for just a few seconds before pushing in. His entire back arched, and he let out a loud cry, breathing heavily. The pain was overwhelming, but so was the pleasure.
Webster didn’t hesitate to move his finger, slowly working it deeper, stretching Lieb more. Then, carefully, he added another finger, even slower this time. Despite everything, he didn’t want to tear anything or cause bleeding.
Liebgott was writhing, moaning audibly, his back lifting slightly off the bed, body trembling, hips moving against Webster’s fingers. He didn’t look that comfortable, but he clearly enjoyed what was happening.
“Easy, Lieb, relax.” Webster commanded, his other hand running gently over Liebgott’s thigh, trying to calm him down. The point wasn’t to hurt or scare him into tense stillness.
“I’m ready, Webster, go on!” Lieb said to him, with his usual, harsh tone, but between moans, feeling like he was about to go crazy and making Webster feel the same because of his shifting tones.
“As you wish,” Webster replied, but instead of removing his fingers, he used his other hand to lower his pants just enough to free himself. Webster’s cock was already hard, and he coated it before pulling his fingers out, drawing a louder moan from Liebgott.
Webster positioned himself and pushed in, slowly but with force, entering Lieb as the man squirmed beneath him. Liebgott groaned, his arm finally falling away from his face, leaving his voice unrestrained.
They both knew they were making too much noise, that at any moment, someone could walk into the room or come close enough to hear. It wasn’t just their room. They weren’t even sure if the sounds hadn’t already reached the others, and their door was slightly ajar. But they didn’t care, not even when they heard movement downstairs, which caused both to freeze for a moment, silencing themselves. Because when the noise died down, they resumed immediately.
Webster moved closer, lowering himself to Liebgott. “Lieb, not a sound, got it?” he whispered softly, gripping Lieb’s chin.
“Mmm.” Lieb responded, and Webster began moving again, fast and rough. His hands gripped Liebgott’s waist tightly, pulling him up to meet each thrust.
Liebgott tried to stifle his sounds as best as he could, but they still escaped. Webster then slapped him once, then backhanded him. However he didn’t stop the loud moans, in fact they went even lounder.
“Tone it down Lieb, stop it” He told him again, but the other kept writhing around, so Webster slapped him again, followed by another backhand. Blood appeared on the corner of Liebgott’s lips.
“I told you to shut up,” he growled, his movements becoming even more brutal, pushing into Lieb with all the strength he had, one hand pressing down on Lieb’s shoulder.
Liebgott felt his face burning, especially his cheeks, from the hard slaps, but he felt Webster inside him even more. The roughness was killing him, but he craved more.
He wanted to touch his own cock, the heat unbearable, and as soon as he reached for it, Webster slapped him again, harder than before, harder than ever actually, stars exploding in his vision. His eyes squeezed shut, his mind reeling from the intensity of the hit as numbness spread through him. Until he felt again—Webster’s strong hands gripping both his wrists, pinning them above his head.
“Testing me?” Webster raised an eyebrow, looking down at Liebgott, who had barely opened his eyes, the world still a blur of black and red from the strikes he got across the face until his vision cleared.
Tears had welled up in Lieb’s eyes from the slap. “Sorry.”
“Apologize all you want, Joe,” Webster said, and then the real fucking began.
Webster braced himself fully over Lieb’s wrists, moving at a merciless pace, each thrust driving deeper into Liebgott.
Liebgott’s entire body trembled, moaning as he failed to muffle himself. His body was being destroyed under Webster’s weight and force, and yet, despite everything, he wanted more. He wanted that last harsh slap again, wanted Webster to grip his wrists tighter, to be rougher.
The speed and power of Webster’s thrusts increased, pushing Liebgott to the limit.
He didn’t know it was possible for him to feel like he couldn’t handle any more violence, but Webster was stronger than him, twice his size, with an overwhelming strength that made the pain unbearable.
“Web…” he managed to gasp between his moans and tears.
“I know” Webster responded, slowing down his pace, easing up on the force, and loosening his grip on Liebgott’s wrists.
Liebgott’s heart melted at that moment. Webster understood him and knew what he needed without words. For a second, he wanted to kiss him deeply, but he was pinned under Webster’s body, wrists captured under his hands. Yet suddenly, Webster leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss was deep and lasted as Webster continued moving inside him, not too slow, not too fast, just the right speed.
He released his hands so that Lieb could raise them and wrap them around him, pulling him in tightly, wanting him to hold him more. He grabbed his sweater and lifted it until Webster willingly took it off.
“I love you, Web.. so much, so much.” Liebgott said when the tears had stopped, when Webster had pulled back slightly from the kiss, and when they were both in each other’s embrace.
Webster smiled.
“Me too, Joe.” He returned to the kiss again while Liebgott’s fingers dug into his back.
“You deserve to be touched, Lieb?” he asked.
“Please.” he answered simply, “Come on, Webster, please, please.” He continued begging while he shut his eyes, annoyed, as Webster smiled, lowered his hand and took hold of the other’s shaft, knowing that it wouldn’t take long after all this.
He began to increase the speed on his shaft while continuing to move inside him.
Then Liebgott started to hear Webster’s voice rising, his moans increasing, and he felt Webster quickly pulling out, causing him pain from the speed of it, then he saw him release over him.
At that moment, he felt it himself, while his body freezing, his voice rising until he also came on his chest.
Webster let go of his shaft and threw himself lightly over the other, who tightened his embrace. They stayed like that for a few minutes, gathering their breaths. Until Webster lifted himself again and looked at Liebgott’s face for a few seconds, and returned his gaze.
Tear-filled eyes, his tears reaching his neck, hair scattered everywhere, cheeks a deep, intense red, trembling lips gasping, and a shaking body.
He had completely destroyed him.
He placed his hand on his face and began to wipe his cheek, drying his almost, already dry teras, then leaned in and kissed his flushed cheek, the same one he had slapped harshly before. Then he gently kissed his forehead.
“You alright, mein Liebling?” he asked tenderly, wondering what he would do to himself if he had truly hurt him.
“That was amazing, Webster,” he told him, closing his eyes, focusing on his breathing.
Webster smiled, relieved.
“Let me take care of you, huh?” he said and got up immediately, zipping his pants.
He grabbed a small towel, dampened it, then returned to him, starting to wipe his body, kissing every spot he cleaned.
“Cold, right?” he asked after finishing wiping everything, and he was indeed moving from his spot, grabbing Liebgott’s army clothes that he had thrown on the ground, quickly folding them and placing them under the other’s bed, just like everyone did, storing their belongings under the beds. From under the bed, he pulled out a pair of pants and a long-sleeved sweater, then returned to Liebgott, who was watching him, then stood by the bed and gently dressed him.
He grabbed a few tissues and began to wipe Liebgott’s face, making sure there were no tears left when he noticed a little congealed blood at the corner of his lip. He froze for a moment, then wiped over it with his thumb while Liebgott looked at him innocently.
Liebgott smiled at him when he realized what he was staring at.
“I’m fine, Web. Don’t go all soft on me” he raised an eyebrow.
Webster maintained the same worried look.
“But you showed me the stars, I felt dizzy.” Liebgott chuckled as he spoke.
So Webster smiled at him.
“I’m.. sorry” He leaned in and kissed him between the strands of his hair.
“What are you apologising for? I liked it.” He spoke and began to pull Webster’s body towards him, wanting him to sit beside him.
So Webster opened the bed sheets while Lieb moved a little back to get inside, then Webster entered with him.
They lay down, holding each other, while Webster continued to kiss the top of his head and his forehead, and while his fingers played with his hair, the other burying his face in his chest.
“Web.”
“Hmm?”
“You know I only feel safe with you, right?”
Webster paused for a moment.
He knew.
But he loved the reassurance.
He loved that he told him.
Liebgott didn’t do that often.
He couldn’t talk about his feelings.
Let alone talk about any weakness in him or his desire to turn to someone for safety.
“I know.”
Liebgott sighed in relief, as if he was glad to hear the answer.
“I want to sleep in your arms, right here.” Liebgott spoke again.
“Then sleep,” he told him, wanting him to stay.
“We’re going to be in trouble if someone sees us.”
“It’s alright,” Webster said calmly. “I’ll take care of it, you don’t have to worry about it.” He kissed him again and let him close his eyes to drift into a deep sleep.
“Gute Nacht, Web.”
Aggressive character, huh? In his eyes, he was just a little kitten.